Sins of the Mother
by Lady-ID
Summary: "Eleanor is progressing brilliantly. My physical participation in her birth was… minimized, of course. It is vital that I am unhindered by nature's crude bias." Even mothers make mistakes that they wish they could undo. Please read and review. Thank you.


**A/N: **Thought up this idea upon remembering a particular Audio Diary from _BioShock 2_. In the third level, Ryan Amusements, there was a Diary left behind by Sofia Lamb at the entrance to the park entitled _Eleanor's Progress_:

"Eleanor is progressing brilliantly. _My __physical participation__ in her birth was… __minimized__, of course. It is vital that I am __unhindered by nature's crude bias__. I will be, above all, her __intellectual progenitor_… loyal not to her, but to the people she will ultimately save. But I admit, it is with some measure of pride that I review her marks in standard intelligence tests. As an agent of our beliefs… she may surpass even me. "

It just got me thinking about many, many things… **please read and review, it's highly appreciated by this author.**

**Disclaimer:** the _BioShock_ franchise belongs to 2K Games. I obviously don't own it. I do, however, own the fanfiction idea and OC's within. Sticky fingers will be eaten with Nutella.

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><p><em>Sins of the Mother<br>_By Lady-ID

"'_Mother' is the name of God upon the lips and hearts of all children."_  
>-Eric Draven, <em>The Crow<em> _(1994)_

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><p>~Mars Suites~<p>

March, 1950

Quiet is a noise. It drones, and rings, and irritates the senses if prolonged. Doctor Sergey Viktorovich Katin stood in that uncomfortable quiet, straight as a statue, looking out the drawing room window. A tumbler of gin was cradled in his hand. The ice clinked, melting slowly from neglect. Though the view of the Rapture cityscape was worth millions, and a school of glittering, golden-finned fish swam past, he was not interested in them. In fact, he wasn't looking at anything in particular. He just stood there, staring out at the blue abyss beyond the lights.

Behind him he could hear the unmistakable click of a lighter, and he inwardly cursed, gripping his glass a little tighter. He really hated that nasty habit of hers. He turned his head to look at his wife, who was sitting primly on the edge of an armchair. The hardened look in her eyes that betrayed great disappointment was becoming all too familiar to him. She too was staring, like he had previously been doing, but not without purpose. He didn't bother to follow her gaze, knowing full well that she was fixated upon the paper on the coffee table. Still, a dry lump formed in his throat at the blaring word on the paper, 'NEGATIVE.'

Katin thought it odd, even now, that they were actually trying for a pregnancy. Before he had gotten married to Sofia ten years earlier, she had made it clear to him that she had not wanted children. She had been a graduate student at the time, and wanted to simply further her work in the field of social psychiatry by way of extensive travel and study.

Then they were invited to live in an underwater colony in 1949. Their first night in Rapture, she returned to their new penthouse from her meeting with Ryan, declaring that she wanted a child. Yes, Sergey had found this… as an odd request because of her previous reservations on motherhood, and he felt that this sudden desire for a child was somehow spurred by her meeting with Ryan. However, he brushed aside his suspicions for the most part. He himself didn't have any favour nor dislike when it came to children, and if Sofia wanted one, who was he to deny her?

After trying for six months with no luck, they had gone to the fertility clinic at his wife's behest, and found out that it wasn't Sergey who was the problem; he was in perfect working order. It was Sofia. According to the specialists, her uterus and ovaries were unfit for child bearing. There were drug treatments available, therapies… but now even that striving point had failed it seemed.

"Sofia…" he sighed, feeling as if he had to say something to his wife. Yet, he was also unsure as of how to approach her. Unshakeable woman that she was, infertility was still a rather delicate subject for a woman who wanted to be a mother. "I'm very sorry…"

The psychiatrist merely waved her hand dismissively, the smoke from her cigarette creating gray, swirling patterns as she did so. "There is no use crying over another failure, Sergey. If my body doesn't want me to bear a child, then so be it."

"No," he frowned, walking over to the couch in front of her and taking a seat. "There are other ways to have children besides by way of fertility drugs. It was stupid of the specialists at the clinic to only offer one solution."

"Really, my dear," she replied loftily. "Do tell. If your suggestion happens to be adoption, I was already advised by a kindly patient of mine not long ago. But I would rather raise a child from infancy that was our own than not."

He shook his head, setting the gin glass down on the coffee table and wiped his hand of condensation on his jacket. Jumping to conclusions. Sofia was always so careful with how she carried herself –no matter her mood or if she was in public or private– but somehow she always managed to let her guarded demeanor slip up when she was speaking with him and distressed. It was a little amusing.

"Sofia… if you are forgetting already, we are in Rapture now. There are no secure, ethical laws that forbid intervention in regards to methods of conception. I, as a scientist myself, have the liberty now to go through with many experiments others on the surface cannot." One of his wife's slender brows rose, indicating that she was listening… and interested.

"Vitro fertilization. It is possible; we tested it in America… before the government intervened. We take a healthy woman's eggs and couple them with my sperm; the embryos will be analyzed and tested for genetic anomalies. The best one we will perfect through genetic engineering and introduce it into the healthy woman's uterus for pregnancy. You will get the child you want. What do you say?" Sofia was silent for a long while, brow gently furrowed as she mulled his proposal over.

"…If this allows me to be freed from nature's crude bias, then I would agree to this procedure. As for a proper surrogate, I should like to ensure that our child will have a chance for genius intellect. A somewhat… eugenic approach must be taken, you understand." She tapped her cigarette thrice upon the silver ashtray. "Do you know of any potential candidates, Sergey dear?"

Katin clasped his hands together and leaned his elbows on his knees, pensive as he stared at the moisture that had gathered at the base of the gin glass; a piece of ice crackling and sliding further into the alcohol. "…Actually, Sofia, I do think we might have one… but first, I must know," he switched his gaze from the tumbler to his wife's face.

"Just what do you think you will accomplish by having a child, Sofia?"

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><p>~Sinclair Solutions Rental Laboratories~<p>

March, 1950

The hollow echo of his feet hitting linoleum was greatly unnerving, to say the least. While the upstairs of the company building was quite nice –decked out in modern, metal statues, live plants, and plush, red carpeting– the downstairs lacked that formal decour. It was plain, bleakly gray, and lit by buzzing fluorescent lights. The hallways contained nothing but door after door, leading to lab '24C', '36S', and the like. It even gave off a slight chill that seeped through bone.

The stark emptiness reminded him too much of the institutions back in Moscow…

Doctor Katin finally came to a halt, finding the laboratory Mister Sinclair said she would be in. _"Little lady's been holed up in there for days, doc,"_ the Southern businessman had said with a somewhat forced smile. _"Now, I don't know what she's doing in there, but when you talk to her, give her this notice. Her rent's long overdue, you see. And I'd rather you deal with her."_

The door to lab 105A was open partway –enough to allow a sliver of yellowed light through– and when he peered inside, he could see her bent over a microscope, adjusting the settings. She chewed her tongue in concentration. "Tenenbaum?"

Doctor Brigid Tenenbaum jerked her head around, surprise written across her face. As usual, her lab coat was stained with chemicals, and her blouse and skirt were wrinkled. Her dark hair was severely unkempt and unwashed, and the bruising circles under her eyes spoke of too much coffee and very little sleep. She seemed to fall into a habitual cycle. She'd have periods where she only worked in light loads and put in a little effort to look her best, and then they would give way to periods where she would have a mental breakthrough and throw hygiene and sleep to the wind.

"_Добры дзень_, Tenenbaum," he greeted in broken Belarusian. He would have tried greeting the woman in German, but unfortunately, the only words he knew in the language he had learned from a few German-speaking acquaintances of his in his youth, and they were not terribly appropriate for a conversation with a lady.

"_Добры дзень_, Doctor Katin." The little woman adjusted her coat and crossed her arms loosely over her chest. She raised her eyes to look at him, but not directly. She never did; it was one of her peculiar quirks to never make eye contact… unless she felt it was necessary. Tenenbaum settled upon observing him, much like how she would observe a specimen. The doctor's face was as stern as ever, but his eyes… they were not serene, like normal… they seemed to be filled with a worry, as if he had troubling thoughts on his mind. Suspicion bubbled in her chest, but she forced it down. "How can I help you?"

Katin hesitated for a moment before answering her question. "I was hoping to speak with you. It is very important…" He gestured smoothly to the hallway with one arm. "Will you walk with me as we speak? You could do well with a break from your work."

Thinking, Tenenbaum frowned and took one step forward. "I…" She looked at him with uncertain eyes, biting her lower lip. "Yes. Let us walk."

The pair of scientists were blanketed in uncomfortable quiet for some time, leaving the laboratories and taking a path through one of the translucent connector tunnels. Sergey stopped, gazing out the glass at the glowing lights of the city. "…How are you liking life here in Rapture, Tenenbaum?"

Unsure of how to respond, the Belarusian woman smiled mechanically. "I am growing fond of this life. Are you and your wife adjusting well, doctor?" Something felt restless within her as they stood side by side and exchanged pleasantries. Though she had never been terribly good with emotional intelligence, she was no fool to tell that whatever he needed to say to her was much more important than he was making it out to be.

"I have found an investor who is interested in my ideas, and as for Sofia… she is flourishing. So many people need counseling, so she is kept busy frequently. Which brings me as to why I brought you here." He let his arms link casually behind his back. "When Sofia and I moved down here, she suddenly wanted a child. We have tried pharmaceutical methods, but they yield no positive results."

Tenenbaum's expression was forcibly neutral as he spoke, as she had not at all been expecting her senior's visit to include wistful talk of having a child. And quite frankly, it just made her feel awkward. "I am sorry; I don't understand how this relates to me, doctor. I can somehow help you?"

"Yes, you can. I suggested to Sofia vitro fertilization, because I was going to further my research in the subject anyway, and she has agreed to the procedure. We are in need of a surrogate, and we were hoping that you would be that volunteer, Tenenbaum."

Brigid was floored. Doctor Katin certainly hadn't beaten around the bush when he said that he wanted her to bear a child. And certainly not any child, but one that would be raised by _that_ woman. Tenenbaum certainly didn't hate Lamb… but she wasn't fond of her either, and treated her name with as much passiveness as she would any other person. From what she had heard and seen, the British psychiatrist reminded her too much of those Communists that reigned over the USSR. As if sensing her hesitation over the matter, he continued.

"Think about this, Tenenbaum: you will be helping to plough the way for a scientific innovation. A way to erase genetic imperfection. Create smarter, healthier, stronger, better children before they are in the uterus. Designer babies, if you will. A more evolved, sentient future for generations of our species. It deals greatly with biogenetics… which is your field of interest." His logic was definitely sound… and his offer was indeed tempting. Brigid could remember clearly in the prison camps, herself as an amateur geneticist. Full of questions regarding the human genome and hoping to discover why children would be born so different from one another. Naturally, she had found out not long after what sequencings in DNA made genetic anomalies occur, but soon after the Germans lost the War against the Allies. She had never been given the chance to try and manipulate that sequencing… and Doctor Katin seemed to be the shining, golden gate for that opportunity.

"Alright…" she straightened up. If she had been any other person, she would have squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. Instead, she settled for confirmation. "I consent, doctor. I see promise in this experiment you speak of." Sergey smiled, though his eyes now looked a little more troubled than before.

"_Хорошо_. I will tell Sofia. As I mentioned before, I have an investor who will be willing to contribute in the idea of designer children. Hopefully, we will be able to proceed in a week's time." He withdrew a paper from his overcoat's pocket and put it into her waiting hand. "My investor's telephone number and address. I will see you tomorrow to begin proceedings. I advise you begin getting more sleep and practising hygiene and a better diet for the months ahead." The Russian man turned, beginning to walk back to Sinclair Solutions.

Tenenbaum sighed, feeling a little elated with the prospect of finding out if manipulation to embryonic genes would work… until she caught sight of the thin slip underneath the directions.

"Doctor Katin, what is this?" She demanded calmly, holding up the notice, her hand shaking slightly. Sergey looked over his shoulder nonchalantly.

"Oh, that, doctor, is a notice, I believe. Mr. Sinclair told me to relay the message that your rent is overdue. And according to that slip, you will be kicked out of your lab if you don't pay him soon. _До свидания_, Tenenbaum." And with those words uttered, he hurried off down the connector before she could reply. It did make him smile to hear a disdainful "_Scheiße_!" behind him.

He chuckled to himself. Yet, even her colourful outburst was not enough to quell the unease that pitted his stomach.

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><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

_Добры дзень__:_ Belarusian for "hello." It is mentioned in _BioShock: Rapture_ that Tenenbaum was originally from Minsk, Belarus, so I'm going to incorporate some of her Belarusian heritage as well as her German (her father was mentioned in her profile to be a German Jew).

_Хорошо__:_ Russian variant for "good."

_До свидания__:_ Formal Russian for "goodbye."

_Scheiße:_ German for "shit."


End file.
